if i were you i'd take a permanent vacation

[bigfuckinggun]

Who: Megatron and Baelheit
Where: Mintaka Industries
When: About now, after this thread
What: Having found out about the human scientists Starscream entrusted with the formula for synthetic energon, and that they are being pretty cagey about it, Megatron decides to take matters into his own hands
Warnings: BAD GUYS

Megatron has taken pains to ensure that his avatar wouldn't look too out of place walking into a human office building. But although the hologram is smartly dressed and well-groomed and does not have any fangs at all, Megatron's presence, even via digitally projected human shaped proxy, could not be subtle. Not only is the man he appears to be just a naturally imposing figure, tall and broad shouldered like the real thing, he carries himself like someone who is used to having people call him 'Lord', and despite not actually having a laser cannon the size of a man mounted on one arm, his deep inner conviction that he is capable of crushing anybody who rubs him up the wrong way makes people who have never seen him before step aside to let him pass.

When he strides up to the desk and demands – not impolitely, but as though he is accustomed to being obeyed in all matters – to know what floor Baelheit's office is on, the receptionist tells him. She asks if he has an appointment; "Yes," he tells her, and walks past the front desk as if he owns the place.

He's aware that his avatar may be actually stopped by the humans, but isn't particularly perturbed by the possibility – after all, his actual body is hovering a long way above the building, well out of harm's way. This is more about proving that he can just walk into Baelheit's office at his leisure than anything else.

Comments

[bigfuckinggun]

"I see," says Megatron, inwardly making another mark on his list of reasons to break Starscream in half at the earliest opportunity. "I take it that because of this you feel the formula... belongs to you. That I have no right to simply demand it back; that you are owed something in exchange."

[baelhat]

Baelheit merely gives him a faint smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, one that doesn't seem to answer either way. He doesn't know much about this Megatron, but he can tell the Cybertronian is far from pleased. Baelheit, for his part, merely seems to watch him, as though a distant observer. At any rate he doesn't seem all that worried or intimidated by Megatron.

"Commander Starscream and I had an arrangement," he says simply. "The synth-en formula in exchange for the repair of his transformation cog. If he did not plan any farther ahead than that, or indeed even consult his superiors on the matter...I'm afraid it seems to me that that is an internal affair, and has little to do with me."

[bigfuckinggun]

"Indeed it is. However... the fact remains that you have something I need, and that is very much your problem, Doctor. I am not Commander Starscream." His lip curls in disgust as he says his subordinate's name – but then he seems pretty disgusted by this whole situation. "The only offer I have to make you is this: you will hand over the completed formula... or I will annihilate you, and tear up the surface of this world to extract what I need from its soil."

[baelhat]

Ah, and now they're getting into dangerous territory. To his credit, Baelheit still seems well-composed. He has a forcefield generator at his disposal if needs one -- he doesn't even need to move to activate it, not with his psychic powers -- but even so, he'd prefer not to have his office become the scene of a battle if necessary. At least it's becoming increasingly clear that there is some dissension in Megatron's ranks. That could prove useful -- as long as he survives this encounter.

"A compelling offer, although I've never been overly fond intimidation and brute force," Baelheit says, a touch coolly, but by all appearances he is still quite cordial. "Very well, then. It seems as though you've forced my hand, Megatron...will you at least grant me some time to gather all the necessary materials? I was not the only member of our staff involved in the project. I'll need to coordinate with the rest of my team to ensure that what we're giving you is, as you say, complete."

[bigfuckinggun]

Megatron laughs – not in triumph, but because he can tell an attempt to buy time when he sees it. "Of course," he says, and, with a broad hand gesture, "Summon them here, now. I would be delighted to have an opportunity to witness first-hand the scientific processes of such a primitive species."

[baelhat]

Primitive? If Baelheit were the sort to get riled up by such obvious jabs at humanity, his lip would have curled by now. But he's not interested in rising to Megatron's obvious provocation.

Besides, if he has anything to do with it, humanity won't be considered so primitive for long.

"This is an office, Megatron, not a laboratory," Baelheit says, gesturing crisply with one hand. "If it's a practical demonstration you're after, I'm afraid you'll have to make an appointment to visit one of our hot labs with the proper facilities. We simply aren't set up for any process in this office. Now, if you would..." He begins to rise from his seat again, sweeping his hand rather pointedly toward the door. "I have preparations to make."

[bigfuckinggun]

Megatron's eyes narrow.

"Very well," he rumbles. "But know that we are keeping you under close watch, Baelheit. I do hope that you will not... disappoint me."

He does not move towards the door. Instead the avatar flickers once, and then abruptly disappears.

Above, in the clouds, the hovering aircraft hums to life, and soars towards the desert. Baelheit will need to be dealt with, that much is clear. But Megatron has internal affairs to address first.